Alaskan Undead Apocalypse (Book 4): Resolution (52 page)

When he approached the lifeless body, it
moved slightly but in a more human manner than did zekes. He was
pulling himself out of the water. His dark skin was human and
lacked the ashen color to which all zeke skin tones faded. He was
alive but, by the look of it, barely.

Mason approached him apprehensively;
concerned that perhaps the water could have done something to one
of the monsters to help make it appear human. When the large black
man built like a running back finally spoke, Mason confirmed what
he already knew: the man was still alive and needed Mason’s
help.

The man said, “Princess. I’m trying.”

Mason slung his rifle over his shoulder and
hopped between a series of huge rounded rocks to the man. He could
feel the deep cold that had beset the man’s skin. “C’mon, buddy,”
Mason coaxed. “For your Princess. Push yourself.”

A few moments later the two men were up out
of the water and off of the treacherous rocks. Mason knew that he
needed help in order to get the man in the Inn, so he ran into the
fortified building in search of assistance.

Carter heard the excited young man making
his announcement about having found a man washed up on the rocks.
He ordered four men to help Mason move the man into one of the
unused bedrooms upstairs, which they set about doing while Carter
went to find the Colonel.

Colonel Bear received the news with all the
enthusiasm of a dog being given table scraps. He devoured the
information hungrily and then basked in the satisfaction of the
moment. Carter thought the Colonel acted as happy as a child on his
birthday. He was almost giddy.

When the big black man, shivering and barely
conscious, was more or less carried into the inn, Colonel Bear and
Carter met him in the lobby. The Colonel fired a barrage of
questions at the man, wanting to know from where the man had come
and with whom.

His eyes weak and scared, the mountain of a
man looked around at all the faces staring back at him. Most of the
eyes in the crowd were curious, if not a little empathetic. There
were a few glazed with fear and fewer still burning with angry
emotion.

The man uttered, to all of their
astonishment, “I know...I know who...you are. Why...are
you...here?”

Colonel Bear leaned in wearing his serpent’s
grin and hissed, “If you know who we are, then you sure as hell
know why we’re here.”

The black man lowered his head, resting his
chin on his chest. He allowed a long, deep breath to escape from
his mouth and partially clogged nose and then he went limp. The
Colonel ordered him carried to the room and shackled to the bed.
There would be a guard on him at all times.

Carter raised his hand. “Let me have a talk
with him first. Shackle him to the bed. I’ll be up there straight
away so we can have our...talk.”

Neil’s shoulder hurt like hell, but he felt
very lucky. The bullet had gone straight through his shoulder, not
hitting any vital organs, and really causing tissue damage. In a
football accident when he was younger, he had broken his clavicle
and dislocated his shoulder. That had seemed much worse. Once the
bleeding was stanched and those terrible first minutes of trauma
control had passed, Neil felt like the worst of it was behind
him.

His left arm sent waves of pain through his
nerves when Neil so much as thought about that side of his body. He
couldn’t lift the arm or even hold it still, so Emma fashioned a
sling from a tablecloth she found in the galley on
Serenity
.

Back at William’s lodge, he found himself
lying on his back once again on the same couch to which he had
retreated before the plan had been hatched to explore the cruise
ship. He had been given a high dose of Tylenol with codeine for his
pain and a fistful of Ibuprofen to control the inflammation. He was
feeling fairly euphoric and even a touch philosophical in his
random thoughts. He could hardly feel the ice pack pressed tightly
against his wound with an Ace bandage, though the cold crawled
deeper and deeper into his chest. He lay there staring at the
patterns on the ceiling, thinking to himself that a lot had
happened since he had last been on the couch.

Never in a million years could Neil have
imagined getting shot, much less surviving it. And William; Neil
couldn’t stop thinking about him and the look in the man’s eyes
after he pulled the trigger. Neil didn’t remember William taking
the entire hunting pack of zekes with him over the railing; he
didn’t remember much after the bullet punched the hole through him.
That moment reverberated through his mind like a self-perpetuating
echo.

A little voice from the floor startled Neil.
He’d forgotten that Jules had come into the room with him. She was
sitting on the large, colorful rug in the middle of the hardwood
floors and playing with the doll William had given her.

Neil hadn’t heard her question, so Jules
repeated it. “Do we have to leave here soon?”

“Why do you ask that, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know. Every time we get somewhere,
we can only stay for a bit and then we go find somewhere else.
That’s just how it is. That’s what Danny said.” She repeated,
trying to mimic Danny’s voice, “That’s just how it is.”

Neil invited her to join him on the couch.
Adjusting the way that he was positioned caused him a little pain,
but it passed quickly enough. “What would you like to do?”

“I don’t know. We have been here for a long
time though.”

“No, it’s only been a few days. That’s not
long at all.”

Jules shook her head and sat her doll down
on the couch next to her. “That’s in old time. We’re in new time
now.”

“New time?”

“Yeah. Time doesn’t work the same
anymore...that’s why we don’t need clocks and watches. We don’t
have seconds or minutes anymore. They’re too short. Everything
comes in days now. A whole day is a long time, especially if you’re
awake for most of it. Every day is special. That’s what Meghan used
to tell me.”

“She used to tell me the same thing, and she
was a smart lady, wasn’t she?”

“I miss her,” Jules said.

“Me too.”

“If a day is a long time and we’ve been here
for a few days, then we’ve been here for a really long time. We
don’t usually stay at places for long times anymore, so I just
wondered if we would be leaving again soon.”

Neil hugged the little girl to his chest.
“I’d like to stay here as long as we can. What do you think?”

Jules nodded and hugged Neil back. She
whispered into his ear, “I’m glad you’re back and I’m glad we’re
with you.”

Neil kept hugging her to hide the tears in
his eyes from her view. “Me too, Jules. Me too.”

Sometime later, he fell into a deep sleep
which was only partially drug-induced but was desperately needed
either way. It was dark and his body wanted to sleep, so he
followed its cue and drifted off.

While Neil slept, Emma, Jess, Danielle, and
Mia discussed what they should do. The woods were teeming with the
undead, which made movement out of the lodge difficult.
Fortunately, the lodge was well stocked, had a reliable source of
water and heat, and was built solidly. They could weather a siege
of limited proportions but they needed to know their options. They
needed to be thinking about their next step. They needed to be
thinking and acting like Neil and all of them knew that.

They cleaned and cared for their weapons,
reloaded bullets into spent magazines for future use, and set them
around the lodge in positions for easy access. Some of them slept
while Emma relieved Jerry from his perch for a bit.

Jerry was grateful for the break, but he
wasn’t quite sure he was ready to face everyone. He felt fully
responsible for Betsy’s and Nikki’s deaths. In his mind, he had let
them all down by allowing Nikki to be unsupervised long enough to
make her fatal decision. Jerry had failed everyone and fully
expected to be met with accusatory eyes.

To his surprise, when he appeared in the
kitchen he was only met with a pair of tired smiles and a cup of
coffee. Danielle ordered Jerry to get some rest and let the women
take charge for a bit. He consented.

The rest of the night was quiet and
uneventful. Danny helped both Emma and Jerry keep watch at
different times during the night. Jules spent all night cuddled up
with Neil under a warm blanket.

Nothing but the snow stirred outside and it
fell steadily through the darkness. The snow fell like sifted flour
and accumulated at a slow, consistent rate until morning.

Carter exited the room looking very
satisfied. He had gotten the information the Colonel sought and had
also confirmed that the people responsible for the attack on their
home were near. It didn’t require much convincing at all. The fact
that the man named William was burning with fever made Carter’s job
very easy. It was a wonder he hadn’t died when he jumped from the
ship and it was very fortunate for all of them that he had
survived. He was their missing key to deciphering the puzzle.

It was at darkest night and probably not a
good time to be going out after anyone. Besides, they weren’t going
anywhere. Those bastards didn’t even know that the Colonel had
tracked them to their little nest. Carter had to admit quite a
boost in his respect for the Colonel.

On his way downstairs where the Colonel was
waiting for him, Carter wondered what he was going to do with
William. Maybe they wouldn’t have to kill him. There was always the
chance that the guy could be turned. Maybe he could be made to feel
abandoned and betrayed by the others for leaving him behind. They
didn’t even look for him. Carter could already see the script
playing out in his mind.

At present, he and the Colonel needed to
have a war council. There was a looming battle forming in front of
them and they had both superior firepower and the element of
surprise in their favor. Carter could be ready to go in a flash. He
tended to travel pretty light and he was ready to kick some
ass.

He found the Colonel staring out the window
into the dark. Carter walked over to the table and poured a drink
for himself into the glass he had left on the table following
dinner. Colonel Bear turned on his heels, his enormous belly
building its own momentum, and greeted Carter with a stony smile.
Carter tipped his glass in the Colonel’s direction and fired back
his own devilish grin.

Colonel Bear said, “I believe it is time to
pull in the rearguard. We will need all of our strength for the
coming engagement.”

Carter emptied his glass, nodded eagerly,
and stepped out of the spacious dining room.

Colonel Bear’s thoughts became even darker.
They wouldn’t have to dispatch anyone to call back the rearguard if
they still had their communication equipment. Unfortunately, that
had all been lost in the fire at Skyview. One more thing for which
to condemn those people once he and his men had finally caught up
with them.

The Colonel was looking forward to the
approaching confrontation. This would be the battle for which he
had waited and hoped his entire life. He would be able to right a
wrong and deliver some swift and righteous justice.

He wouldn’t rush into things. He would take
his time and do it right. They could wait for first light and then
go. He would let his troops rest a little tonight. Maybe he would
allow them all a few drinks to set the mood right for tomorrow. He
and Carter would make an announcement and get them all riled up.
Tomorrow...tomorrow they would have their war and their
vengeance.

Meanwhile, Mason sat in the room with the
delirious man named William he had unknowingly pulled from the
frying pan and tossed in the fire. The man was shackled to his bed,
as weak as he was big. He shivered and quaked with fever, his bones
chilled to the marrow by the cold water of the Prince William
Sound.

Once Carter had left and the door was shut,
Mason launched into caretaker mode. He gave William water and
covered him with more blankets. He didn’t know what else to do, but
he felt obligated to do something. It was his fault that William
had endured Carter’s unkind attention.

Carter had slapped the man and threatened
him and his friends with much worse. Carter also promised the man
peace and friendship if he told him where his friends had gone. His
grip on reality no more firm than his grip on consciousness,
William eventually told Carter what he needed to know.

Mason was thankful it hadn’t gotten any
worse than what he had seen. He didn’t think he would be able to
sit and watch Carter torture the man, which made Mason worry about
what would happen to him as a result. Would Carter punish Mason for
his perceived weakness?

Mason made up his mind that he would help
the man if the opportunity presented itself. He wasn’t certain how
far he could take it, but he knew he had to try. There had been
other opportunities in the past— both before and after the rise of
the dead— in which he had been presented an opportunity to do what
was right but he had not. The most recent regret he had added to
his tally was losing young Frances and Ethan in the forest during
those early days of the apocalypse. He had sworn to protect them,
but he had failed miserably. He had never been certain what fate
had befallen them, but the little girl, Frances, had been bitten.
He knew well what likely became of her but he was always tormented
by the possibilities concerning Ethan. Had he fallen victim to his
own sister after she turned? Were they slowed down enough due to
Frances’ grievous wound that both of them were hunted down and
devoured by the predatory undead? Regardless of the circumstances
of their end, Mason was fairly certain that it hadn’t gone well for
them.